


Let's Hang Out Sometime

by WordsAblaze



Series: Witcher Fics [17]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt Eskel (The Witcher), Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, It's spooky month, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Protective Eskel (The Witcher), Restraints, Soft Eskel (The Witcher), Sorry Not Sorry, Whump, Whumptober, it's nilfgaard so yaknow, jaskel, no beta we die like jaskier doesn't, so i'm gonna hurt the bard, with less comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26758225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAblaze/pseuds/WordsAblaze
Summary: Nilfgaard captures the right bard but they get the wrong witcher and well, that kind of mistake never turns out pretty... day one of whumptober.
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Witcher Fics [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726360
Comments: 6
Kudos: 202





	Let's Hang Out Sometime

**Author's Note:**

> apologies to my WIPs but i'm starting a new thing !! probably won't finish it but here goes !!  
> today's pairing: jaskier/eskel  
> prompts used: waking up restrained / shackled

“-wrong witcher, you brainless toads!” 

Eskel groans. 

“So you can take your pitiful questions right back where you came from because you got it  _ wrong _ , you-”

“He’s awake.”

He being Eskel, who finally blinks his eyes open to the sight of a Nilfgaardian soldier. 

“He is? Are you okay, darling?” The same voice that’d been throwing insults asks, the taunting tone replaced with a familiar softness that Eskel can never appreciate enough.

“I’m fine, bardling,” he replies, but he’s not too sure about that.

He doesn’t remember being ambushed but it must have happened because there’s no other way he would find himself in a stone cell with oddly heavy metal around his wrists, his arms stuck behind him and his body generally aching. Regardless, his primary concern is Jaskier, who he can’t even see properly.

“Well that’s great! Now that you’re awake, could you  _ please _ tell these incredibly dense toads that you are not, in fact, the famous white wolf?” 

Eskel snorts. He’s not sure what’s more amusing, really, the fact that anyone could possibly think that he and Geralt look alike or the fact that Jaskier appears to have immediately labelled their ambushers as toads. 

But his amusement fades when he hears Jaskier hiss in pain, glancing up sharply but still only able to see the soldier kneeling in front of him with a grin. “The bard sure does talk a lot.”

Eskel’s eyes narrow at the possible threat. “You will  _ not _ harm him.”

“Oh? And what is he to you?” 

Eskel regrets his threat immediately. As well as their earlier exchange of nicknames. Gods, he’s such a fool for having given them leverage so quickly. 

“Ow! Hands off, you absolute toad!” Jaskier exclaims, and Eskel looks up in time to see him being hauled to his feet and shoved against the wall behind him, his head making an alarmingly loud thud.

“Jaskier!” Eskel cries before he can help it, lunging forwards only to find that the chain attached to his shackles doesn’t even let him stand up. Something that Jaskier would no doubt call a growl escapes him. 

“I’m fine, darling, but I'm going to need a nap after this,” Jaskier whines, sounding almost  _ bored _ despite the arm pressed against his neck.

The soldier, who’d smarty pulled himself upright upon hearing the rage in Eskel’s voice, laughs. “Just because you’re not the witcher we wanted doesn’t mean you can’t be useful. After all, you must know where your kind hide during winter.”

Jaskier makes a face. “Are you quite mad? Do you really think tha- ah!” 

He splutters, Eskel’s blood boiling as he sees the man increase pressure on Jaskier’s throat. Still, pride floods through him when Jaskier kicks out and sends the other man reeling. 

“I’m a  _ bard _ , I happen to need my voice. Can’t expect toads to understand though,” Jaskier mutters darkly, looking over to Eskel with a soft smile that doesn’t remotely match his words. 

And then there's a dagger in his thigh. 

Jaskier cries out, his legs buckling and chains rattling as he falls to the ground, squeezing his eyes shut as his knees harshly hit the floor and evidently only make the pain worse. He ends up awkwardly slumped against the wall, his jaw clenched as he curls over himself as best as he can with his hands shackled behind him.

"You won't even live to regret that," Eskel growls, straining against his own shackles. 

The soldier closest to him steps back but the one whose dagger is still buried in Jaskier's skin just shrugs. "All we need are some directions."

"Along with some logic perhaps," Jaskier scoffs, his voice just strained enough for Eskel to notice. But nobody misses his pained whimper as the soldier kicks him, and Eskel's shackles rattle once more as he instinctively tries to move towards the sound, his veins filled with the urge to  _ protect _ . 

"I'm fine," Jaskier whispers, knowing that Eskel can hear even that perfectly, but they both know he won't be if nothing is done about the origin of the blood that seems to be slowly gathering under him.

One of the soldiers kneels in front of Eskel once more. "Do you really want to risk that?" 

He doesn't. 

He really,  _ really _ doesn't. 

But he can't tell them where Kaer Morhen is either. 

When he doesn't reply, Jaskier chuckles. "I did tell you that you had the wrong witcher, didn’t I? Don't blame us for your own incompetence."

There's a moment of silence before Jaskier lets out half a scream and Eskel quite literally sees red. 

Whether it's blood or rage, it doesn't matter. He simply sees red, forgets all about trying to be patient, and surges forwards, the shackles staying intact as they dig into his skin but the chains snapping when he tugs on them with everything he has. 

He dimly hears Jaskier cursing to Rinde and back but he can't exactly fault him for it. Instead, Eskel uses that voice as an anchor for his own rage until he finds himself standing above a small pile of unconscious Nilfgaardian soldiers.

"I'd ask how you did that but I'm not sure you could actually answer," Jaskier mumbles. 

Eskel kneels beside him, wishing he  _ did _ have an answer because then at least he could get Jaskier out of his restraints. “I’m sorry, Jaskier, I should have-”

Jaskier places a finger on his lips, shaking his head slowly. “Don’t. Just, uh… were none of those toads holding a key?”

A small laugh escapes him but Eskel forces himself to reluctantly leave Jaskier’s side as he searches through their pockets, groaning when he doesn’t find anything. “Apparently they were smarter than that.” 

Jaskier sighs, leaning into Eskel as he makes his way back over. “But still not smart enough to restrain you properly and- oh! Your poor arms!” 

Only then does Eskel note the hints of blood under the shackles; he must have pulled against his skin when breaking free. But he doesn’t want to focus on that when Jaskier’s blood is still gently seeping out of his leg. 

“I’ll make a ballad out of this yet,” Jaskier vows, then hisses again as he accidentally jostles the dagger.

Eskel frowns but plants a small kiss on his forehead nonetheless. “I don’t doubt it, bardling.” 

They might be stuck in their cell for a little while longer - until Eskel is sure he’s not going to put Jaskier in more danger by leaving to go and find something to break his chains - but they’ve already planned to be stuck with each other for an awful lot longer and no Nilfgaardians can  _ ever _ change that.

**Author's Note:**

> i know it's not a fully-fledged story but i made a poll on instagram and the results were to make whumptober a series of oneshots instead of a multi-chaptered fic so i'm going with it or else i'll never post :p
> 
> thanks for reading !! toss a kudos/comment? x


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